of the river.  He said he would do the job only when alone and the others took him at his word.  When he got me where he wanted me, he told his story.  He used to be poor but honest, and was once sent up for a theft that he had not committed.  The gang got hold of him, when he came out of prison, and he was made to join the band.  He said he did not want to kill anyone, that he was sick of what he had been doing, and wanted to reform.  I promised him a thousand dollars if he would let me go, and promised not to testify against him, if he would tell me all he knew.  He took me at my word, and sank a sack full of grass and stones to the bottom of the river, instead of yours truly.  Then he came away with me, told me some astonishing things, took his thousand dollars; and I haven’t seen him since, and I doubt if he will ever show himself again.”

“You were more than lucky.  But what is this band—­if it is any of my business?”

Adam Adams leaned forward.

“Don’t breathe it to a soul, not even at headquarters,” he whispered.  “I have located a band of counterfeiters—­the makers of that clever counterfeit bill on the Excelsior National Bank of New York.  You’ve heard of it—­the one they said was printed from the Racksburg plates.”

“Sure, the one Fields tried to run to earth last year.”

“The same.”

“That’s a big feather in your cap.”

“In following up one thread I seem to have gotten away from another.  I started out to find the murderer of Mr. and Mrs. Langmore.  I thought I had a line on one fellow, but it would seem now that he can readily prove a complete alibi.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to keep your eyes on certain people in and around this town, and especially on that Matlock Styles.  If you see any indications of his running away, arrest him on the spot.  Here is a list of the men to be watched.”  Adam Adams brought out a slip of paper.  Then he described the old mill.  “The counterfeiters’ rendezvous is under that mill,” he continued.  “They make folks think the place is haunted and Styles has savage dogs on his farm near by, and that keeps the curious away.  I want you to watch the mill, too, if you can.  But keep out of all danger.  If any of the gang try to trap you shoot them down, for if they catch you they won’t be apt to let you get away alive.  If you wish get Strong to help you.”

“I understand, and I’ll be on my guard,” said the assistant.

After that the pair conversed for a quarter of an hour longer and then, after making some changes in his disguise, Charles Vapp hurried from the hotel and out into the darkness of what looked as if it would prove a stormy night.

As soon as Vapp had gone, Adam Adams sat down and penned a brief note.  This he sent out by a hotel messenger, and then sank back in his easy chair, to smoke and to meditate.